


Sick as a Dog

by d0g-bless (d0gbless)



Series: A New Breed of Training [5]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Everyone Is An Adult, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series, SHIDGE, Sickfic, Slice of Life, VLD OC: Halley - Freeform, Vomiting, shidge and a dog
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-23
Updated: 2017-10-23
Packaged: 2019-01-21 23:30:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12468404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d0gbless/pseuds/d0g-bless
Summary: Post-canon. In which Pidge feels under the weather and destroys Shiro's crocs, Shiro is worried sick, and Halley tries to make Pidge feel better.





	Sick as a Dog

Just as Pidge had predicted, sharing a bed with her fiancé and a Great Pyrenees puppy would not end after “just one night.” She hadn’t minded at first. There was enough room for all three of them to share.

But that was a few months ago. Now Pidge struggled to find herself sleeping comfortably with a dog nearing one-hundred pounds and a man who weighed… well, more than that.

Even though she was the only one still in bed, she _still_ didn’t feel well-rested enough. Pidge didn’t need much sleep to function. In fact, she thrived off of staying up late. But lately, she could barely keep her eyes open at work. Lunch breaks became nap breaks. As for lunch, she snacked throughout the day, hoping that a little food would give her a little more energy.

Her stomach churned at the thought of lunch — or the powerful scent assailing her nostrils. She sniffed the air again. It smelled like coffee, but something about the scent was off.

Pidge rolled out of bed. She pinched her nose as she made the descent downstairs and the journey into the kitchen.

Halley greeted her with a _boof_ , and got up to follow Pidge. Not once did the dog stray from Pidge’s side.

“Look who’s finally up.” Shiro, clad in a ratty t-shirt, sweatpants, and purple crocs, held out a mug of coffee for Pidge.

Pidge took the mug and inspected the liquid inside. “What’s in it?” she asked, furrowing her brows.

“Coffee, black. Just the way you like it.”

Pidge wrinkled her nose and set the mug down on the counter. “Are you sure? It smells— “ She paused, seeking the right word: _disgusting, rancid, like raw sewage_ “—funny.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Really?” He sniffed the air. “I think it smells fine.”

“Then you try it,” Pidge said, returning the mug to Shiro.

He cocked his head. Was this a prank? “Sure thing.” He braced himself for the biting bitterness and took a sip. “Yeah, it’s definitely your regular cup of coffee. No sugar or cream.” Shiro reached out for his own mug and added an extra spoonful of sugar. Black was too bitter for him. “I can make you a new one if you’d like.”

Pidge’s gaze fixated on Shiro’s crocs. Her eyes were as round as the coasters Shiro set his cup down on. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Halley whined. Peanut’s barks reminded her of the time she ate some of Peanut’s treats. Something yummy that had peanut butter and chocolate. Halley had thrown up after eating all of those treats. And of course she’d eaten her puke, too. It was common courtesy to clean up after making such a delicious mess, after all.

“Okay, I know you hate my shoes, but we made a deal.”

Pidge shook her head. “Shiro, I’m not joking.”

“Neither am I. And even if this was a joke, it’s not very funny.”

Halley’s whining became frantic. She pawed at the kitchen tile.

Pidge heaved once, then puked. Vomit splattered over Shiro’s shoes.

Tears welled up in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to do that. I’ll buy you new shoes, even if they’re ugly crocs.” She sobbed. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Shiro gathered Pidge into a hug. “They’re just shoes. I can clean them, okay?” He felt her chin jut into his shoulder twice—a nod. “And there’s nothing wrong with you. You’ve got a bug. Just get some rest, and you’ll be feeling better before you know it.” He scooped her up, cradling her in his arms. “Does the sofa sound okay to you?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He slipped the shoes off and carried her to the living room.

Halley ran after the couple, hot on Shiro’s heels. Peanut was upset, and it was her job to make Peanut feel better. For some reason or another, however, Halley had a gut feeling that it would take a long time for Peanut to feel better.

“Is there anything I can get for you?”

Thoughts flickered behind Pidge’s golden eyes. “My laptop and a bucket.”

“No blankets?”

She mulled over the suggestion. “And a blanket.”

“Computer, blanket, puke bucket,” he repeated as he lowered her onto the couch. “I think I can remember those. Give me a second.” Shiro planted a kiss on Pidge’s forehead. “I’m sure you’ll be feeling better in no time.” He drew himself up to his full height and sprang into action.

Pidge heaved a sigh. She’d told herself she’d be feeling better a little over a week ago, but she didn’t feel any better. Maybe even a little worse. Something kept nagging at her to tell Shiro, but that only would end up with him dragging her to the hospital in the midst of a panic attack.

Shiro remembered only bits and pieces of his year as Champion. Even so, the smallest fragment of memory was enough to trigger his PTSD in certain environments — and a doctor’s office was one of them.

A bark drew Pidge out of her thoughts. The dog’s head rested on the sofa, looking up Pidge with worried brown eyes. She barked again. Halley’s bark was muffled by something, but Pidge couldn’t quite tell what it was. She held out her hand. “Drop it.”

Halley was only too happy to drop her favorite toy in Peanut’s paw. It was a stuffed lion. Emphasis on “was” since stuffing leaked from its mangled limbs, and it no longer squeaked. But it was still her favorite.

Pidge scratched Halley behind the ear. “For me? Aw, thanks, Halley. Good girl.”

Pride swelled in Halley’s chest. She was a Good Girl! Her tail thumped against the floor, almost covering the sound of Shiro’s footsteps.

“Back.” As promised, Shiro returned with a neatly stacked pile of Pidge’s requested items. He handed her the laptop first, then fanned the blanket out over her tiny frame, and last but not least, he set the bucket—a plastic bucket reserved for making sandcastles at Veradera Beach—down on the floor next to Halley.

Pidge managed a smile. “Thanks.” She flipped her laptop open. It was just as she’d last left it: web browser open and ready to search. Keys clicked and clacked as her nimble fingers typed the in the URL.

Even with Pidge laying down on one end, she took up no more than two-thirds of the sofa. There was always room for the two of them. Shiro sat down, taking up the open space next to Pidge’s feet. “Do you ever turn that thing off?” His question earned him a light kick—or strong nudge—to the ribs.

“Does that answer your question?”

Shiro feigned a wince. The kick hadn’t hurt much at all, but he’d prefer to avoid another one. Especially since her tone indicated she was not in the mood for jokes. “Not exactly, but I think I get the gist.”

“Mm-hm.” Her face pinched in concentration. She pushed up her glasses—a sure sign of sheer determination.

But for what? Shiro knew better than to look over her shoulder when she was in the zone. He respected and trusted her with every fiber of his being. Shiro studied her facial expressions carefully, then found his answer. Her glasses reflected the WebMD logo.

He swallowed hard. Was she really that sick? “Katie?”

Hearing her real name broke the spell of concentration. “What?”

“How bad is it?”

She slammed her laptop shut. “How bad is what?”

“Your illness.”

Color drained from Pidge’s face. “I don’t know. I’ve been feeling like shit for the past week. Or maybe more than that?”

Shiro inhaled a shaky breath. “Do you know what it is?”

“WebMD says it could be a lot of things based on my symptoms.” She passed Shiro her computer. “Feel free to take a look.”

He did.

**Symptoms:**

  * Fatigue
  * Upset stomach
  * Nausea or vomiting



**Possible Conditions (99+):**

Shiro forced himself to stop reading about three conditions down.

Sensing Shiro’s anxiousness, Pidge spoke up. “I think it’s cocaine withdrawal.”

Shiro cracked a smile. “Really? I was thinking lung cancer. You smoke like a chimney.”

“It’s probably not breast cancer. I hardly have breasts at all!” Pidge frowned. “But now that I think of it, they’ve been a little sore lately.”

Shiro’s eyes widened. “You need to see a doctor.” Upon seeing Pidge’s mouth open for a smart retort, he quickly added, “You are not a doctor. You have honorary doctorates in robotics and computer sciences. Not in medicine.”

Pidge shook her head. “No, absolutely not.”

“Since when do you hate going to the doctor?”

“I’ve never liked it.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

Halley growled. How dare Metalpaw raise his voice at Peanut like that, especially in her condition! She leapt up onto the couch and landed in-between her humans, snarling at Metalpaw.

“No, Halley!” Pidge tried pushing the dog off the sofa, but she was too heavy. “You know Shiro. He isn’t going to hurt me.”

Halley stopped snarling. For the most part, the dog seemed calm, save for her raised hackles.

Shiro cursed under his breath. He just had to fall for the team’s genius who could win just about any argument—and now Halley was on her side, too. His expression and voice softened. “Katie, can’t you do it for me?”

“I…” Pidge averted her gaze. “I thought I already was.”

The pieces clicked together. Shiro placed his hand over hers. “You don’t have to be the shield anymore, Katie. The war is over.”

“Is it?” she asked. Her voice was so quiet Shiro almost didn’t hear her. “We’re still dealing with the scars.”

Shiro squeezed her hand. “I know. But we’ll do this together, just like we always have. And I’m sure your brilliant brain will come up with a plan of attack.”

Halley barked as if in agreement.

“Actually…” Pidge looked to Halley. “I already have one.”

* * *

The moment the nurse called for “Katie Holt,” Pidge started having second thoughts about her plan. Maybe it would’ve been better to have Shiro with her instead of having him and Halley wait in the car.

No. Everything was going to be okay. Shiro wasn’t going to have a panic attack. He had their dog in the car, and she’d get the medicine to finish off this virus. It was a good plan.

“Katie Holt?”

“T-that’s me!” Pidge tossed the outdated _National Geographic_ issue she’d been reading on a table and scrambled up to her feet. Her legs felt like Jell-O as she approached the nurse. Pidge caught a glimpse of her name tag: Lauren.

Lauren smiled at Pidge. “Follow me.”

Pidge followed the nurse, answering any questions Lauren asked as thoroughly as possible, starting with her symptoms and anything else that followed.

“Are you on any medications?”

Pidge listed off a series of allergy medications. “Oh, and the pill. My periods were super irregular and awful until I started taking the pill. And hey, it’s also birth control, so that’s a bonus.”

“I take it you’re sexually active, then?” Lauren held open the door to the designated room.

Without skipping a beat, Pidge replied, “Yes.”

Lauren scribbled down notes on a clipboard. “Miss Holt, I’d like for you to take a urine and blood test. Is that alright?”

Pidge nodded. If that made the diagnosis easier, then so be it.

* * *

The neon green band-aid glued to the crook of Pidge’s elbow was going to drive her crazy. Not the color so much as its position. The nurse who drew her blood had apologized profusely for the lack of plain band-aids, but she had an array of colored ones.

Green was the obvious choice.

“May I come in?” The voice wasn’t Lauren’s or the nurse from earlier. Probably the doctor.

“Sure thing.”

The door creaked open. The person who entered was an older woman—probably around Colleen’s age—who’d aged well and happily, if her deep smile lines were anything to go by. She held a clipboard close to her chest, as if it were the most important item in her life. “I’m Doctor Vazquez,” she said. “And I take it you’re Katie Holt?”

“It’s _Doctor_ Katie Holt, actually.”

Dr. Vazquez chuckled as she closed the door behind her. “Glad I’m in the right room. It’s a maze out there. And as a fellow doctor, I suppose I can make this quick with technical terms. No translations needed.”

Ugh. Small talk. “What’s wrong with me?”

Dr. Vazquez blinked owlishly at Pidge’s curt response, then glossed over the test results. “The lab results say they’ve detected hCG in your urine—”

Relief flooded over Pidge. “Oh, thank God. It’s just a UTI.”

Dr. Vazquez’s brows knitted in a frown. “Human chorionic gonadotrophin isn’t a urinary tract infection. hGC is a hormone found in gestating people’s urine or blood. Doctor Holt, you’re pregnant.”

Pidge’s mind ran faster than her gaping mouth. There was no way that could be true. This had to be a joke. A mistake. “O-okay, I’m not a doctor like you. I-I mean, I _am_ a doctor. I have a few doctorates in robotics and computer science. And technically they’re honorary, but they’re still official doctorates, right? I just… I’m sorry. Please can you tell me why I’ve been nauseous for the last… gosh, week and a half? Maybe two weeks?”

“Morning sickness. Maybe food aversions. Typical first trimester symptoms.”

Fuck. Vazquez wasn’t kidding. “But I’m on birth control!”

“Which is not one-hundred percent effective.”

The doctor was right, of course. But the odds made it seem like it wouldn’t happen. Then again, odds were a funny thing. The odds of winning an intergalactic war against the Galra Empire had not been in her team’s favor, and yet they’d won. The odds for surviving the whole thing? Even less than that.

The odds had never been in her favor, and it seemed like that wasn’t about to change.

Pidge rested a hand on her stomach. It didn’t seem possible there was anything in there. Then again, saving her brother and returning home once seemed like a pipe dream.

She forced herself to make eye contact with Dr. Vazquez. “What now?” Pidge asked, even though she already knew the answer.

“Well, you have a few options: once it’s born, you can raise it or put it up for adoption. There’s also abortion.” Dr. Vazquez patted Pidge on the shoulder. “Until you’ve figured out what to do, I want you to stop taking birth control and take prenatal vitamins instead, just to make sure that you’re getting the nutrients you need.” She removed a folder from the clipboard and handed it to Pidge. “Here’s a list of resources you might want to consider reaching out to.”

_Translation: Planned Parenthood clinics and recommended gynecologists._

“And a note from me. Surely Takashi would want a bit more information, and telling him could be a little daunting.”

Pidge’s jaw dropped. “How did you know?”

“I know the brilliant Green Paladin when I see her. That, and you wrote down ‘Takashi Shirogane’ as your emergency contact.” Dr. Vazquez offered her hand, which Pidge grasped and shook firmly. “It’s been an honor meeting you, Pidge. Best of luck with everything.” With that, Dr. Vazquez exited the room.

 _Brilliant, huh?_ Tears blurred Pidge’s vision. _If I were so brilliant, I should’ve known what was going on. I’m such an idiot._

* * *

“You know, Halley, I think this was probably Pidge’s best plan to date,” Shiro said, running fingers through the dog’s white fur. “But don’t tell her I said that.”

He wasn’t sure what it was about dogs—or at least _this_ dog—that put him at ease. Anxiety about Pidge’s well-being still gnawed at the back of his mind. But Halley’s presence silenced his concerns.

Halley pressed her nose against the car window. She smelled sweat and peanut butter on the wind. Peanut! It was her Peanut! She barked and pawed at the window. Metalpaw, it’s Peanut! She’s back!

Metalpaw understood her. He made the metal monster roar and run toward Peanut. It jolted into a stop. Using some form of magic, Metalpaw commanded it to stay in place.

“Halley, stay.”

Halley plopped her rear down on the passenger seat and watched Metalpaw open the monster’s side and exit its bowels. For a creature on two legs, Metalpaw ran almost as fast as she did. Once he was close enough to Peanut, he wrapped a foreleg and paw around her shoulder, escorting her to the monster.

He tore open the monster’s side and told Halley to shoo. Halley whined. She needed to make sure Peanut was okay. Couldn’t Metalpaw smell Peanut’s overpowering scent of sweat and fear? But the man was relentless. Halley slunk into the backseat, tail between her legs. Shaking her head, Halley gave an indignant huff. Peanut didn’t give up on her, and she wasn’t going to give up on making Peanut feel better.

“The good news is that I’m not dying.”

Shiro turned the keys in the ignition. “And the bad news?” He set the stick to drive and tapped the gas pedal with a heavy foot.

Pidge shrugged. “I’m not really sure if I’d classify pregnancy as bad news or good news. It’s more of a neutral thing? Like, it could be good or bad, but I’m not really sure where I stand on that. I guess it’s just news.”

Tires screeched into a sudden stop. Halley flattened her ears at the sound.

“Easy on the brakes, Shiro.”

Shiro’s chest heaved with each breath. He felt like he finished a marathon, weak at the knees and gasping for air. What little oxygen he took in came out in nonsensical exhalations. Stammers and stutters and “um”s and “uh”s.

Taking advantage of Metalpaw’s confusion, Halley scampered to the front of the car. She clambered into Pidge’s lap, all one-hundred pounds of thick white fur. A metallic hand reached for her scruff, but withdrew.

Pidge’s hands clung to Halley’s fur in a trembling white-knuckled grip.

Finally, Shiro managed a complete sentence. “A-are you alright?”

“Yeah, the sudden stop startled me.”

“That’s not what I was talking about.” His gaze dropped to Pidge’s stomach— or rather, what little he could see of it with the dog snuggling up to Pidge. “You’re…” He looked back up. “Did I hear you right?”

She nodded. “You’re not upset, are you?”

Upset? How could he be upset? He was going to be a dad! Pure joy surged through his veins.  “Of course not! I’m—“ _Getting ahead of myself._ Even though he was ready to be a parent, maybe Pidge wasn’t. He cleared his throat. “I’m not upset. Just surprised. I wasn’t expecting to hear that.”

“Neither was I.” She cracked a fragile smile.

Shiro set the car in park. “What are you thinking?”

The better question would have been “What aren’t you thinking?” Contrary to her chaotic messes at home, Pidge kept her thoughts organized. Computer programming? Down the hall and to the left. Future robot ideas? Buried in the front lobe.

Now everything was out of place. A giant stack of manila envelopes scattered on the wind. Now she had to go out and try to piece everything together.

This wasn’t part of her plan.

Then again, she hadn’t planned for her father and brother to disappear. Neither was piloting a sentient robotic lion that turned into a giant robot superweapon. Or falling in love with Shiro.

But here she was, engaged to him at 26 years old and pregnant with his… embryo. Or zygote. Whichever it was at five-and-a-half weeks. (She refused to think of it as a baby or child.)

“I don’t know.” The words tasted like bile. She was the smart one, the one who had answers. And for once, she didn’t have any. Not even one. She buried her face into Halley’s fur. “I don’t know.” A muffled sob shook her tiny frame.

“That’s okay.” Shiro rubbed Pidge’s back soothingly. “You don’t have to know what to do or think right now.”

Pidge peered up from the thicket of fur. Her face glistened with a coating of tears and snot. “Really?”

“Really.” Shiro wiped her face clean. “And no matter what you decide to do, I’ll support you. Your body, your rules.”

Though his statement meant to bring relief to Pidge, it added more weight to the situation. As a feminist, Pidge appreciated his words. All people should have access to equal opportunities and control over their bodies and choices. After all, Pidge had penned—more accurately, typed—those words in the inter-galactic treaty after the war ended. All planets that wished to partake in the Voltron Coalition had to agree to all its terms in order to join. Earth had been stupidly reluctant, but its residents realized passing up an inter-galactic alliance would be a foolish thing.

Where was she going with this? Oh, right.

She hadn’t planned on making this choice. Sure, it was one she could make on her own. She was strong enough for that. But she also didn’t have to.

“While I appreciate the sentiment, I don’t know if I can—no, I can. I don’t want to make this decision alone.”

Shiro measured his words with a ruler. “I don’t want to pressure you one way or the other.”

“I’m not asking you to tell me what to do or to make this decision for me. Can we talk through this together?” She was fighting back tears. “I’m sort of overwhelmed, I can’t think straight, and—” she paused, eyes wide. “I think I’m going to puke.”

Thank God he’d packed the bucket. He reached to the backseat and grabbed it by the handle,  and handed it to Pidge.

Halley barked twice. As if on cue, Pidge emptied her stomach and filled the bottom of the bucket.

A cacophony of car honks from the vehicle behind them startled Shiro into slamming the gas pedal. Suffice to say, he was relieved they were parked.

Pidge wiped her mouth with a sleeve. She rolled down the window and shouted, “Listen up, fuckface, I just puked! Unless you want what’s left of my lunch splattered over your windshield, give us a fucking second!”

Halley stuck her head out the window and snarled. Too loud! You’re too— before Halley could finish her bark, Shiro grabbed her by the collar and pulled her back into the car. One girl dealt with, one to go. He pressed a button to close and lock the passenger window.

“Let’s go home and talk.” His stern tone was at odds with the smile on his face.

It was good to see the Pidge he knew and loved back.

* * *

Following the events of that day, Shiro learned three things as he and Pidge talked:

  1. Morning sickness does not occur only in the mornings. Even though Pidge spent the last three mornings with her head over the toilet, she also became very familiar with the kitchen sink in the afternoon and evenings.
  2. Halley had the innate ability to predict when Pidge would throw up. Two barks meant Pidge was running to the nearest toilet, trash can, or sink. Halley also refused to leave Pidge’s side and did not like it when he got too close to her.
  3. According to the pamphlets the doctor gave Pidge to pass on to him, pregnancy is not nine months long, but 40 weeks long. That’s because most medical professionals start measuring pregnancy from first day of the pregnant person’s last period. Pidge just started week six and felt miserable. She described it as “an incurable hangover.”



This morning, Pidge requested a tall glass of water and bowl of cereal with a side of saltine crackers.

Even though Hunk wouldn’t allow him within a three-foot radius of any kitchen, Shiro felt confident enough to handle Pidge’s request. It didn’t require use of the stove or any appliances. The greatest danger? Carrying a tray up the stairs.

Compared to everything Pidge was experiencing, it was nothing. It was the least he could do.

* * *

Halley leapt onto the bed and dropped a new toy on Pidge’s lap: A slobber-coated tennis ball. “Thanks, Halley,” Pidge said, masking her disgust. “I’ll add that one to the collection.” She set it on Shiro’s side of the bed, where Halley’s destroyed lion plush and mustache squeak toy rested.

A tidal wave of happiness crashed into Pidge. Despite how miserable she felt, she hadn’t felt this happy in weeks. Maybe it was due to Shiro and Halley spoiling her the last few days. Or maybe it was the baby— _no, embryo,_ she reminded herself. She snuggled back under the covers, rubbing her flat belly.

That’s when it hit her.

She wanted this: A family. She had many families. The Paladins, the aliens she’d befriended, and her biological family.

Family was why she’d purchased a house with four bedrooms. Not just for the Paladins and their allies or her mom and brother to visit whenever they pleased. It was “just in case” she and Shiro started a family at some point. They’d never quite gotten around to talking about it until now.

She loved her parents’ relationship. Who wouldn’t want to be as in love as her mom and dad had been? She’d loved every moment of being a family with them. And that was why she’d fought in the war as long as she did.

For all families.

And now, she was going to have another family. Her own family.

Besides, if she could handle an inter-galactic war, surely she and Shiro could handle a baby.

Shiro sauntered into the bedroom with a tray. “Breakfast in bed for one?”

Pidge waited for the right moment. After the incident with the car, it was best to make sure Shiro wouldn’t drop or break anything. When he handed her the tray, she said, “Actually, it’s breakfast for two.”

“For you and Halley? Or for me and you?”

She shook her head. “Oh, I’m not sharing with either of you.”

Realization dawned on Shiro’s face. “Oh my God.” His face lit up with a bright smile. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Pidge said, voice cracking. “Takashi Shirogane, you’re going to be a dad.”

Shiro collapsed onto his side of the bed — and on Halley’s toys. A high-pitch squeak captured Halley’s attention. She tackled Shiro, pinning him to the bed. She held her head high, then looked to her Peanut. Did I do a good job?

Pidge laughed. Poor Shiro looked dazed, either from the news or from Halley’s playful tackle. “Aw, Halley, come here. Leave the poor guy alone.”

Halley barked excitedly as she returned to her favorite spot in the world: snuggling next to her Peanut.

“A dad. I’m going to be a dad… Oh my God, Katie, we’re having a baby.”

Blinking back tears, Pidge nodded vigorously. “Yeah. We are.”

* * *

Just as Pidge had predicted, sharing a bed with her fiancé and a Great Pyrenees puppy would not end after “just one night.”

But she hadn’t predicted that “just one night” would change her life.

Now Pidge was engaged to Shiro and pregnant with his child. Even though their bed was tight between the three of them, Pidge knew that there would be room for one more addition.

**Author's Note:**

> OK, so a little background? I've had Shidge and a dog being my favorite ship for awhile, but Battleshidge somehow made it even better. It was a moment of "Yes this is cute, but I raise you: Shidge and a dog and a baby." ...and damn. She was right.
> 
> And yes, this has been planned since I started writing this... (But man, it wasn't for Shiro and Pidge.)


End file.
